That could be legit, Rapparee. It's exactly what I would've written to them Corinthian bozos if I had been Paul. The New Testament is not bad, but I think the Old Testament really gets a bum rap these days even though there is a lotta good stuff in it. Just think what Joshua coulda done at Jericho if he'd had a few Tommy guns fer the troops!

It is a fair and pleasant day here in California, with the skies smiling bluely and the sun dappling the greening land; to the West, the Grat Pacific rolls gently in from the far Orient, bringing faint traces of jasmine, oolong, and the occasional used condom. Soft breezes are just now playing along the mountain slopes to the East, where the barren wastes of Arizona lie hidden on the far slope ready to ensnare any woebegone traveler who is foolish enough to want to leave this paradaisical countryside.

It is a fair and pleasant day here in Idaho, with the skies smiling bluely and the sun dappling the greening land; to the West, the GrEat Pacific rolls gently in from the far Orient, bringing faint traces of jasmine, oolong, and the occasional used humdrum. Soft breezes are just now playing along the mountain slopes to the West, where the barren wastes of Oregon lie hidden on the far slope ready to ensnare any woebegone traveler who is foolish enough to want to leave this paradoxical countryside.

I knew there was SOME explanation as to how you were making ends meet. I suppose you have a tight private connection with some little sawed-off gimpy-eyed, leather-faced, twist-nosed lowlife second-story man who will suddenly deliver this target asset to you for fencing, and probably a little black book of dozens of highly qualified extraordinarily wealthy marks who won't ask too many questions to sell it to...

Some sort of leather-faced, rat-like, second-story man? Alfred Hutton? I don't think so. And here is the PRACTICE, FENCING, NON-LETHAL sabre he designed. Goodness, Amos, but you must thing that I spend all of my time running people through and most certainly isn't the case!

No, dingdong, not Hutton; the guy who steals it for you so you can fence it...sheeshe...tin-eared megalomaniac...what's a guy gotta do around here to get some plain understandin'...oy, such tsuris you give me, Rapparee...dangnabbed minicephalic troglodyte..sheeshe...

No, sir! Sometimes I just shoot 'em, like Eiseley does. You'd be surprised how quick she can quiet Story Hour by firing just one bullet into the ceiling with her .45. And that creep-o the other day in the Library -- she nailed him at around 100 feet and, by using a ricochet shot, around a cornet and upstairs. She told the cops "Shucks, it was just like playin' pool, which I wouldn't know about because I'm a quiet, mild-mannered children's librarian from a small city in the Pacific Northwest." The cops gave HER their Expert Markswomanship Badge and the City Council gave her a standing ovation for "clearing one more creep and/or bum out of our fair and vibrant metropolis." The creep-o is recovering nicely in the local jail following treatment in the local hospital. He will probably be told to "get out of town" and given a ticket to San Diego, where we usually dump critters like that.

That is a real nice lookin' sabre, but it needs the edge sharpened and a good point put on the tip. As it is now, it ain't good for much except moderately (so as not to do harm) spankin' one's gal (if she is into that kind of thing and likes it...which some do). If she ain't, though, then it would be little use at all. I don't see how they can figger to sell a sabre that ain't got a decent point on the end of it. It's too big to use as a butter knife.

But, sir! It is an ideal device for liberating the entrapped hirsute visages of overly-hirsute simians from their lower gastro-intestinal tracts when they have been lodged therein as a result of untoward and often unscrupulous calisthenics on the part of said simians.

There is a remedy for pretentious, pontificatin', supercilious bozos like you, Amos, a way to cut 'em done to size and make 'em face up to their own mortality and their pompous delusions of grandeur, and make 'em bite the hard cold bullet of reality instead, but I ain't gonna explain it here, cos people might get offended, and it wouldn't do no good anyways, cos nothin' anybody ever says to you has any more effect than a pinch of pigeon shit fallin' on a whited sepulcher and I already know that, see? I would be wastin' my breath.

I say, why do you people believe that my saber should be used to harm someone? When properly used (along, perhaps, with one my small contributions to its use) it becomes good exercise and keeps the mind alert. I'm quite flattered that even so many years after my death people would be re-discovering the benefits of this exercise. Better that that of the bloody frogs or wops, anyway.

Amos, perhaps this best demonstrates how Hutton's saber fencing is done. Note the masks, the elbow guards, the protective jackets, under which would be plastrons. On the other hand, note the choreography and generally wild gyrations done in movies, such as this.

Well, all very beautiful, if arcane; but to wield a saber in the wild is surely an act of harmful intent, no? Not these carefully stage-managed scenarios of skill. If all we are talking about is a game of electronic blips from touchŽs, I'll stick to Angry Birds...

The sword wasn't considered obsolete in the Japanese WWII military. However, they were very rigid traditionalists when it came to stuff like that. The swords carried by Japanese officers were very prized and sought after souvenirs by American soldiers who took a lot of trophies off the dead Japanese after the desperate battles that were fought on the various Pacific islands.

And carrying a sword while fishing the West Branch of The Little Forks Stream is legal. Carrying a shotgun is legal too but it sucks in the alders and one-by-one pines. A sword on your back is also much lighter and doesn't bang you in the back so much as a shotgun does.

Busy cooking up tomato juice and sauce this afternoon, and canning this evening. You boys just relax, but someone go dig around in the bookcase for that kiddie book about Little Red Hen. MOM is going to make you read it out loud first time one of you asks for a glass of this superb homegrown and homemade tomato juice.

Sorry Mom and sibs to abuse your hospitality. Just aint' no where else for me to say what I can not put into words with any artistry, or to anyone who has no expectations of me to "take care of the situation."

No words, no poetry, no music or verse. Not surprising. My art is appreciation, not artistic expression.

There's no getting ready; and there's no way to take care of the situation at heart. You can smooth some of the logistics, but better to let a friend help with that. And this is the kinda thing Mom is for. So no sweat on that account. Continue breathing. Hearts are with you.

Janie, you're grieving already, and it is worse when they pass. But it's like finally vomiting when you have the flu - when it happens, there is some relief. Not right away, but it changes. My mother-in-law died Thursday, so my ex and my children are in the place you anticipate. And I hope I can help them through it, but time is what is the best cure. Take care of yourself.

I'll save the BS for tomorrow. Sleep on it tonight. Take care, everyone. Give someone you love a big hug.

You've got to give them permission to go, and you have to give yourself permission to give them permission. It's all a matter of Love: loving yourself and having enough love so they can go knowing that it's okay. Remember that you never really "lose" them -- you just can't phone them.

I can't tell you how many times I was ready to reach out and phone one of them after my parents died. I'd say it was two or three years, the kids would do something great and I'd think "I have to call Mom." And then realize that what we were doing was directly related to things Mom did in our lives, but she wasn't there to share with. It is difficult, but you have the reminders, and you keep them alive in yourself and your children. I know my parents would be proud to bursting with my daughter's theater costume design, and my son's scholarship. It's my job to now occasionally tell them that their grandparents would be so thrilled with what they're doing.

The abstract pattern that is the I of him will not fade no matter how many forms come and go to cover it; so it is with all of us. The connections, too, are enduring across many instances of form. Recognizing that always makes me feel better, anyway.

I was preparing to go to Indiana and Illinois for Thanksgiving. I wanted, among other things, to see my Uncle (the last of the men who acted as a surrogate father when my father died) who has cancer in his right lung which has metastasized to the bones of his ribcage.

Knowing that I need money for the couple of weeks I'd be gone I withdrew $400 for traveling money and put it on top of my armoire, as I always do. The day before I left I put it away for travel, counting it as I did so.

The day I left I found another $40 on top of the armoire -- two twenties folded together. Figuring that I had somehow screwed up, I simply put them in my wallet and forgot about it.

Counting up when I got to where I was going, I found I had an extra $40. Hmmm.... When I got to town to see my Uncle I was told that he was having a hard time looking at his magazines because of macular degeneration taking his vision and that the magnifier which his son had bought wasn't working for the old man.

Having 40 years or more of experience in libraries and knowing something about magnifiers and the elderly I decided to get one I knew would work. I spoke with my wife, who suggested a couple of places that might have them, one of which was Hobby Lobby.

The next morning I pulled out from the motel and about two blocks down the street was Hobby Lobby (when I lived there the entire area I was in was cornfields). I bought two magnifiers I thought would work. The cost came to slightly over $36.00.

This man was my mother's youngest and favorite brother. And I ask you, where did the extra money come from?

During the course of this life, Rap, I've seen at least 3 fullblown "miracles"...occurrences that simply weren't "possible" within terms of our normal ideas of reality.

They were all very significant occasions, and the things that occurred were in regards to genuine need...and were very positive.

Miracles, people call them. And they happen.

I do not discuss them on this forum for very good reason...(casting pearls before certain swine can elicit some very upleasant responses from said swine)...but your story appears to be something along the same lines.